Of Dancing and Shorties
by Caltrop'd
Summary: [Arg, Tokka fluff got in my eye.] Homecoming dance is coming up, and Toph can't see right when he's there.


"Toph, you listening?" His voice called out to me, tearing me away from my thoughts of why it was so hard to _see _when he was around. Around anyone else, I just feel the vibrations, always the vibrations. But when he's around I feel another beat much faster than the patter of feet in the hallway.

"Hmm?" I swiveled my head around to face where his, closing my locker in the same movement. "Yeah, Snoozles? Something about France?" I huffed, locking the cold metal Four Nation High School locker.

He laughed and leaned closer to me. That other beat sped up again. As much I wish I could deny it, a slight warmth spread across my face. I scowled. I was Toph Bei Fong, greatest sculptor in the world. I don't blush. Ever. No matter how hard I convinced myself not to, I was indeed blushing when he, with a simultaneous movement, plucked both of my punk rock-blaring earbuds out cleanly, placing them into my sweatshirt pocket.

"Yes, France. I've become obsessed with cheese and funny accents." He spoke, his usual dose of sarcasm present. "Of course not France, shorty. The dance. Has Gerard's screaming finally killed off those remaining brain cells?" He teased, crossing his arms and striking his 'cool guy' pose, leaning against the row of lockers. He always found a way to tease me about my height (It's not my fault I haven't grown since sixth grade) or my habit of listening to MCR (He calls me a scene kid and lectures me on how every song sounds the same). If it were anyone else, their heads would be my model for my next piece, entitled 'The Severed Heads' by Toph Bei Fong. I imagine that would sell quite well.

But it's not anyone else, it's Sokka Tribe, my friend since the wee small years of life.

"What about it? You.. you going with Suki or something?" I played up the disinterested act I've made ever since Sokka discovered other girls. Girls that could see. Pretty girls, not scruffy tomboys with mismatched socks.

"Naw, she says I'm already too in love with someone else." Sokka voiced after a short pause. That beating that made it hard to see stopped, completely, utterly.

"W-who?" My act was slipping fast. I ran through the possibilities.

Azula? Naw, she was too caught up in the love triangle of her, Jet, and Smellerbee. Sokka wouldn't want to get caught up with that. Besides, Azula didn't seem quite right for him.

Ty Lee? Even as I said it, I crossed it off in my mental list. Ty Lee was in a serious relationship with Mai. Everyone knew. Yay Gay.

In quick succession, I crossed off Katara (Just plain wrong.), Yue (Fell off the face of the earth), and the rest of the girls in his grade and most of them in mine.

"Well, she's kinda short, has funky hair, and," Sokka paused, turning himself to stand straight in front of me. "And she'd probably kick my ass if I ever made her mad." My face was on fire as he leaned closer once again and spoke next to my ear. "In case you don't get it, will you come to the dance with me, shorty?"

In quick succession, I let my messenger bag fall to the ground and kicked him in the shin, so his ponytail-mowhawk-thinged head was level with mine.

"So, that, dear Snoozles, was for calling me short, three times, I believe?" I spoke, the beating resuming quicker than ever. "And this," I grabbed a fistful of his shirt in one hand and leaned closer to him this time.

I used to say I was Toph Bei Fong, I never got scared. But I was scared shitless as I crushed my lips to what I hoped was his mouth. If he was kidding me, I'd indeed kick his ass back to Omashu. "This is for taking so long. Hell yes, Snoozles."

"Uh, Toph?" God dammit. He was kidding and I was a fricking idiot for believing him. "Are you going to kiss my eye every time you say yes?"

I made a mental note to hit something with my head. Hard. I groaned and clapped a hand to my face. Idiot.

Something cool was on my chin, and as it tilted my face up I realized Snoozles must have stood up. I pondered this as something soft and definitely not an eye touched my lips. After what seemed like days, Sokka's mouth retreated.

"Wow, so every time I want to kiss you, I have to bend over like that? I don't know if my back can take it. It's quite the distance, shorty."

His groan of pain was a sweet trophy as I dragged him off to our shared Art class.

In case I wasn't clear, that beating that made it hard to see?

That was my heart.

Teh Woot! There, I've had this burden of wanting to make some good old-fashioned Tokka since for ever. I may continue this to ze Dance, if people want me to, or If I just feel like it.

Oh, by the way, Sokka is a junior and Toph's a sophomore. And Toph just can see with vibrations even though this is AU. Also, Sokka's hair is kinda like a mowhawk, but the back part is tied up. Not all of it is slicked back. Yeah, it's kinda hard to explain. Picture the singer from the Bravery with a ponytail on the back and no side-hair.

I own nothing. If I owned Avatar, Zuko and Aang would catfight quite sissily over Katara, Smellerbee would rule the world, and Ozai would work for the Cabbage man, along with Foamy and Old Sweepy.


End file.
